Fix Me
by power.in.a.pen
Summary: When I told her to stay away... She should have listened. Songfic to Marianas Trench song "Fix Me" Part 1 of 4. (Maybe, depending on the response. Can stand alone if response isn't great.)


_**I got pinned on copyright infringement guys. I have to take the lyrics off my stories or lose my account. I would hate that after posting Ocean Blue for as much of it as I have. Story is still up ad feel free to look up the lyrics guys. I'm sorry :(**  
_

I had always known that she should have stayed away. I even left town when we were seventeen, because I knew I was falling apart. I knew she would want to protect me and I couldn't let her watch it. I hurt everyone, and I knew she would be right behind everyone else. I had gotten myself kicked out of high school and when my mom enrolled me in a school twenty minutes from our hometown, she transferred. When I moved away to Chicago a month before graduation, she skipped it and followed me. She found me everywhere I went. I'm sure it didn't help that my mom was determined to see her and I together. She knew the redhead was good for me; that she made me healthy. Even when I tried though I always fucked up. I even tried romancing her and doing things right when she tracked me down in Chicago. Somehow though, we ended up like this.

We had been sick for days. Chloe was sicker than I was though. Maybe it was because I had done this before, maybe she was deeper into it than I was this time. I pulled my sweat coated hair off my face and leaned my forehead on the cool ceramic of the tub behind me. I caught my breath. This sickness was good; it reminded me I was doing the right thing.

I went back to the bed.

"Beca?" she whimpered. I took her hand. It was so clammy, it scared me.

"Yeah baby?"

"I can't do this anymore. I'll die getting clean. I am dying. Please, get me some. I'm sorry baby but I just can't do it." she was crying now. Fuck. I couldn't stand watching her cry. It was my biggest weakness. It killed me inside.

"Okay, I'll go." and just like that, I failed her again.

I was there and back in an hour. Chloe immediately started prepping rigs and tying herself off. She injected a vein on her wrist, and then grabbed a clean needle for me. I always preferred the way she shot me up, her having taken nursing in college for a year. I found a vein and she shot it up, quick and painless. As the smack hit me, my sickness instantly disappeared. I looked at Chloe and she was smiling again. Then, a tear rolled down her cheek. I knew what she was feeling. Our resolve had crumbled so easily. Would our lives permanently rely on this chemical happiness? How could we have let this go so far?

Everytime I looked at her I felt fifteen again. Her with that god damned Polaroid camera I got her for her birthday. Me, so proud to be with someone like her. She had it so together. I as just a punk, and she paid attention to me. Picture after picture she took of us with that camera.

"One day you're going to want these memories Beck." she told me.

She relied on me and I thrived on her.

Like the day her dad ditched her. Chloe ran to the park where she knew she would find me getting drunk.

"Beca, I feel so empty. Why would he leave like that? He didn't even stop and say goodbye to me. Just walked straight past me and out the front door." I had no idea how to comfort her. Usually I drowned my problems with drugs and drink. I passed her the fifth of whiskey in my hand.

"Stay here tonight with me. We can fall asleep in my car. Drink with us. Todd's got some excellent cocaine if you're interested." she gulped down some whiskey and let the anger wash over her entirety.

"Yeah I'm interested." I smiled. She was meant to be mine, even though she should have been destined for better. We fuelled each other like that.

Chloe always made it better. When I needed to detox for a bit, she always sat with me and made sure I was okay. She took care of me all the time. How could she do that now?

She told me to hide in her. She told me she'd protect me. My pains, my scars, she made them disappear.

We protected each other's secrets and dreams. Together we were free.

"Beca, Beca. I can't feel my heartbeat. Can you?" she pulled my hand down to her chest. This had been her favorite game since we started shooting heroin together. I could feel it, but it was faint.

"Yes. But, baby, we got to quit. We're going to die like this if we don't. I promised your family Chloe. I promised them I'd take good care of you."

"I'm not ready. Stop your whining. We will be fine Beca." she was already melting down more.

"Fine. You do what you have to do. I think we need fucking help." I lit a smoke and paced the room.

"This is your fault in the first place! You were the one who said it was fun! You were the one who told me it would help me unwind!" she yelled.

"Fuck you! I offered you some and told you what it did for me. You never had to take it. I never pinned you down and shot you up Chloe! I told you I was trouble back in Carolina. You knew exactly what I was… A fucking junkie! Yet you followed me here! I'm not going to be blamed for this!" I kicked the end table and our rigs went flying. Chloe cowered on the corner of the bed.

"Beca, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just, I need this a little longer. You understand it… I want to get clean, I just need to be high for a little while more. When I'm ready, I'll get help with you. We can do it together. I know we can, I just have to want it more." she reached for me and I took her hand.

"I'm sorry too sweetheart. I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I just don't wanna lose anyone else to this fucking monster of a drug. I've watched too many people I love get taken by it and they don't climb back out. I want you to climb out with me Chloe." I kissed her softly. "When you're ready we'll go." and I dozed off

Chloe's hand fell against mine, rousing me out of my dreamless sleep.

"Chloe? You okay?" she didn't answer me, and I snapped straight up in bed.

The color was fading from her face. A needle was hanging out of her wrist. I slapped her.

"Beca…" was all she managed before she became completely still.

I started CPR on her, screaming for someone to call 911. I was working so hard. Giving her every bit of air I had. I became dizzy as I breathed into her again and started compressions.

"Chloe, please come back. You have everything I am. All of it. Every ounce of energy. Just please baby, make it out so we can climb god damnit!"

"Chloe, get up. Please, come back. I won't tell anyone what happened. We were going to get better baby. How can we do that if you're gone? Don't leave me Chloe. Please."

The medics came in and I went out onto the deck and smoked through a half a pack. I couldn't be in there. I'd lost her. I knew I would. I always knew it'd be my fault. The EMT came and asked me a whole bunch of questions. I answered them as honestly as I could.

"I'm sorry about your girlfriend." he said genuinely as he walked away.

Next were the cops. They didn't ask me too many questions, but rather were there to give me her belongings.

"This is what was on her when she passed. We figured you would want it. I'm sorry kid." he handed me a bag.

When I was finally alone, I dumped the contents onto our bed. Her cell phone and wallet were there. So was her wedding ring. I opened the wallet and a Polaroid fell out. Our favorite picture.

I was laying on the grass, with head in Chloe's lap. We were both laughing, and most importantly, we were both sober. It was before Chicago, before I dragged her down. Her cerulean eyes were twinkling in the sunlight, and she was my world. It was my first run at sobriety, and I think it was our strongest point.

"How are you going to make it stop hurting this time Chloe?" I yelled, letting the emotion finally take over. Tears fell down my cheeks and heaves threatened to gag me. I cried myself to sleep, clutching that fucking picture.

(One year later)

She did make it better. Even gone she fixed the broken me.

Her mom found me a couple days after Chloe was gone. She had been worried they would be burying both of the Mitchells. She took me home to Carolina for Chloe's funeral, then shipped my ass off to rehab for six months.

When I got out, I turned my attention back to music. Chloe had always wanted me to make it a career. I got a job at a really cool indie station, and began mixing and playing my own music on daily specials.

Everyday I miss her. When I wake up with empty arms, it is a painful reminder of the thing I lost. The ache keeps me fighting. When I feel things starting to overwhelm me, I hear her whisper the way she used to.

"Beca, breathe."

And I am fixed.

.


End file.
